Crepuscular

It sounds like that
Repulsive, creepy-crawly

Feeling's overtaken you again--
A caterpillar's treading, flexing

Its luminous pulsating muscles
On the curve of your wrist--

Your pulse is being taken
By twilight again.


(First published in Poetry Salzburg Review #11, Spring 2007)

Metaphor

It is only in
Its constant

Glowing

The worm inside us
Makes us most

Moving.

The Last Post-Avant Lemming

This one's going
To be impossible
To follow--

Avanti!

Six Words in Search of Consummation

seed pods bur sting
in cemeteries




(First published in The Southeastern Review: A Quarterly Journal of the Humanities in the Southeastern Mediterranean, V.1, N.1, 1990.)

The Unredeemed

And yea, it shall come to pass,
And ye shall see them bereft

Wavering

Over the abyss of legal tender,
And the unredeemable

Waiting minions
Waving millions

Left in the wake
Of their waiting,

Empty hands.